


Midnight Run

by amuk



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Community: 31_days, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:47:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celty likes her midnight rides, the street wide and empty and all for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Run

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: 15. “I love mankind most when no one's around.” (Paul Hostovsky)

It’s quarter to midnight, the dark moon hanging high above her head. It shines down on her, her shadow lengthening in response before shrinking at the next turn.

 

This is her world, of shadows and sirens and streets without limits. There are no cops, no pedestrians, just her and her horse on this empty stretch of pavement. The wind breezes coolly past her, rushing to the opposite destination and if she closes her eyes she’s flying.

 

Shinra’s not home right now. He never is at this hour (this hour of blackmail and secret deals and whispered promises). The apartment is empty, hollowed out with the darkness and her lack of echoes. She thinks she can merge with the furniture if she tried, sink into the couch and disappear through the wall.  Disappear out of reality and back into the myth she came from.

 

Here on the road, though, she feels concrete and real. Her motorcycle neighs as it takes a sharp right and they almost sail off the road.

 

The night air is almost sweet, almost minty, almost bitter. Her cell phone glows eerily in the unlit alley, its digits reading 12:00.

 

She should be heading home soon. The city is quiet tonight, no signs of violence decaying the suburbs. There is no one to save and dawn is scant hours away.

 

Some nights, she wants to ride all the way through—to the edge of the city, the country, her sanity. See how far she can go before she stops, how long it takes for her to break down and return.

 

Some days, she thinks she’d turn back before hitting the highway. Others she’d be at the other side of the world and keep going.

 

This is not one of those nights. She threads the invisible line, one foot on and the other still waiting on the pedal. The wind blows lightly, the stars twinkle coldly, and she turns to head home.


End file.
